Welcome to Ethiopia

when people ask me, "hey graham, did you have fun last night?"....i answer with an enthusiastic "YES!"

there were many goodtimesgreatfun all night long.  the special occasion was that our friend lindsay was turning 25 and for the quarter century party, the wanted to go to an ethiopian restaurant.  i dont know why, ask her, i was just along for the ride.  i pretty much never say no when someone proposes an event that involves food and friends.  unless it was that one time that my "FRIENDS" wanted me to go to rehab for FOOD addicts.  it was miserable and that little debacle led to me having 3 less friends.  ill never love you again WILL STEPHENS, DARIUS, and DA FRESH!!!1111onetwothreelessfriendsIHATEYOU

so luke, eva and i leave school to meet up with the millions of people that will be at this professional dinner.  apparently while we are driving, the taxi driver was diving really close beside us in the other lane while staring and smiling at me (i mean, who would blame him, right? guys? right?) i wasnt looking so i didnt know but eva was in the back seat being awkward, staring back, and wiping off any left over food that was left on her face by her childlike (and also dinosaur-like) hands and eating habits.  

luke and i didnt notice this creepy guy until he honked his horn.  i turn to look at him and hes smiling HARD, and giving me the thumbs up.  of course my instinct was to give him the thumbs up as well but my facial expression was one of utter confusion.  then, luke did the smart thing and slowed down so that he wasnt driving right beside us anymore.  all in all, this was a very weird occurrence that we still dont fully understand.  

my (99% correct) explanation is this:  

the taxi driver saw that it was the one and only graham bennett in the passenger seat of a particularly sporty toyota rav-4.  upon gazing my nubile flesh (specifically my zaftig neck), he was unable to control his giant smile of awe and abundant satisfaction of seeing me in real life.  (most people only see me via internets....which is fitting since i have the president of the internets)

so yeah, thats what happened.

we continue along our journey and picked up gini.  (she was LOOKIN' GREAT! and made us all look like slobs)

on our way to the ethiopian restaurant, i was asking the car if they even knew what kind of food would be at an ethiopian restaurants because i had no idea.  they were unable to fully answer my question so i was left for my own imagination which was later trumped by the reality this ethiopian restaurant provided.

once everyone was there, the restaurant was FULL of us alone.  it was great.  four of us (luke, gini, lindsay, and i) decided to order four different dishes and share it family style!

we get our food and there were no utensils.  there were just rolls of this flat, sponge like bread that you would tear off and bit and use that to pick up the various foods.  our choices was chicken, lamb, spicy beef, and spinach.  it was INCREDIBLE.  

on top of the great food, there were great jokes and conversations.  we were at that restaurant for such a long time.  while the night was dying down, people were getting up to pay.  luke, however, decided to start dancing "African style" and his dancing prompted one of the ladies that worked in the restaurant to dance with him.  after seeing this, i knew i couldnt pass up the opportunity to complete life goal number 32.  which was to dance in a restaurant of a different culture with the people that worked there.  DONE.

so my white ass hopped in the mix and naturally my sexy body mesmerized the other ethiopian woman in the kitchen to throw off her apron and PARTY PARTY.  

sadly, no one else joined us so there were 2 white guys, 2 ethiopian women, and 30 confused people standing and watching.  clearing not everyone knows how to party (gini and eryn have been to africa so THEY should have been dancing!)

anyways, after the restaurant, luke, eva, gini, heidi, and i went to the dance club.  this dance club however is a little different.  instead of a bar to drink alcohol, there are 218 flavors of gelato that serve in these crazy things called "bowls" or "cones".  it was such a wild experience.

i was really confused because every time i went to the DJ to request a song, he would just look at me and say, "oh, uhhh well its jut a cd playing, you are in a gelato shop."

it was strange but whatever, it didnt stop me from dancing and eating gelato.  before choosing the perfect mix of gelato, you were allowed to walk around and take tastes of the various delicious flavors.  

i had (and hated):

aloe vera

garlic

balsamic vinaigrette

wasabi

and after i had fun trying the disgusting flavors i ended up with: creamsicle and raspberry cheesecake.  I WAS IN HEAVEN.  the fat district of heaven that is. 

after the NEWER and BETTER version of gluttonfest, we hit the road and were on our way home.  

on our drive home, eva decided it would be a great idea to perfectly articulate the story of the weird taxi driver experience that we had earlier to gini and heidi.  heres how that disaster happened:

eva: "OMG!!! earlier there was this prius........that was painted yellow!!!...........like a taxi; and he was all like blah blah"

after i heard her say that....mainly the part about the "prius that was painted yellow like a taxi", i really thought that she didnt think it was a taxi but rather some creep who decided one day to make his car look like a taxi, so i interrupted her (rightfully) and yelled:

me: "EVA! it WAS a taxi!"

since im her friend, i wouldnt allow this to go unnoticed so the clownings began!  the whole car loved it (minus eva who was hating life at the moment) but it was pew pew pew all the way home.

eva later came up to me that night and said, "graham, you were right in clowning me because my choice of words were far from acceptable in the matter of storytelling.  also, do i have any food on my face?"

sidenote:

luke wants to mountain dew feist. 

TEAM NAME POLL!!

alright, i need everyones help here.  my sister, who is my sister, is a part of a dodgeball team at school.  wait a minute, that sentence was supposed to read, "my sister, who is a teacher,..." but whatever.  anyways, there are 6 teachers that are going to battle middle schoolers on the dodgeball courts (headshots count)

THEY NEED A TEAM NAME!!!

ok go.

and please make is "appropriate" because this will be at school and there will be middle schoolers present.  i put appropriate in quotations because if its SO ABSURDLY INAPPROPRIATE that a middle schooler will have no idea what it means....then thats acceptable.

oh, and cobra, "team touch me there" is already taken by the middle schoolers.

Reading Weak

so this reading week is almost over and im completely useless.  yes ive had the good times, and yes ive read but no matter how much i read, IT JUST KEEPS GROWING!!  my reading is like chinese food.  no matter how much i eat, it just magically grows and right before i explode, i look down and see a full, relatively untouched, plate of general tso's chicken.  

my mom and dad are probably wondering how my exercising is going and my answer to that would be: YES!

i exercise EVERYDAY!! HARD!!

i wake up.  i vigorously struggle to get free of the obstacle course (my blanket).  after i get the blood pumping, i stretch for a good bit (bending down to pick up my jeans).  now heres the tricky part.....i dont know how many of you have put pants on but let me tell you.....IT IS EXHAUSTING!  

once i put my pants on, i take about a 30 minute nap (reenergize!)  i wake up to repeat step one.  then i work my biceps by straining to open the poorly made chest of drawers to gain access to my clothes.  once i give my brain a little work out (pick out what shirt i should wear), i continue the "heavy lifting" by moving my body is such a way to actually dress myself.  this is an art, folks.

ah fuck, my shoes.

well, there goes 2 hours of my day.

at this point its about 4pm so i have enough time for a little walk.  you know, epic cardio!  i start walking with only one thing on my mind.  a healthy meal.  i arrive at grounds for coffee to celebrate a day of exercising with some milk and a cinnamon roll.  so im rejuvenating my body of vital necessities.  cinnamon rolls are good for you.  its kinda like fruit.  yeah, i eat fruit!  thats it.  healthy stuff for graham b in 2009 woot!  im pretty sure cinnamon is a fruit.  

ok ok ok this next part im going to tell you is going to BLOW YOUR MIND!!! (notice the all caps and prominent exclamation points in the previous phrase to tell the reader that im screaming)

they pour my milk (probably 1% bullshit, but im not going to push my luck) into a nice classy glass.  i say "thank you" to show my gratitude but when i grab the glass, i immediately take back any sort of gratitude that i expressed.  the glass was HOT!  my brain went wild and all i could think was:

"are you seroius?" "you cant be serious!" "are you seroius?" "you cant be serious!" "are you seroius?" "you cant be serious!" "are you seroius?" "you cant be serious!" "are you seroius?" "you cant be serious!" "are you seroius?" "you cant be serious!" "are you seroius?" "you cant be serious!" "are you seroius?" "you cant be serious!" "are you seroius?" "you cant be serious!"

by the time i get to my seat, my milk had heated up to room temperature and im pretty sure start curdling along the top.  COME ON!

oh, i drink it. dont you worry about me.  i had to bite the bullet and nourish my body.  i probably burned tonzz of caloriezzz during the day so i had no other choice.  plus, esophagus needed some assistance to help get the fruit down to my stomach.

so all in all, im an awful student because im feasting on cinnamon rolls and writing in my blog instead of reading.  im weak.

An Account on Dancing

Dancing.  a lot of people have very different images when they hear, "hey you like to dance...party?".  usually im open to all sorts of dance styles but theres one thats has been added to my rolodex of images recently.  and i dont know if i want it there or not.  lets dive into this a little deeper...

when i run into a mysterious man wearing a trench coat in a dark alley....he, on multiple occasions, either asks me, "do you like to party?" or "are you looking to party?".  the latter question just assumes that, like every other hot young human male, i like to party.  which is true but still, the question seems ambiguous and vague.  

as i take my sweet time trying to figure out what he means by "party", the mystery man is waiting patiently (and by patiently, i mean completely still and staring in my eyes......im not even sure hes breathing......no wait, hes just breathing REALLY hard).

after about 15 minutes of pondering my existence in relation to partying, the man finally screams, "DAMMIT GRAHAM!!  its the same as EVERY week....DANCING!! im asking if you are looking to DANCE!! you thick shit!"

"oh, right", i replied.  but then a series of images of dancing came to mind on what exact dance i was going to perform for the mystery man.  (i really need to stop going to dark alleys)

the good, bad, and the majestic rushed through my brain like mayonnaise through the mouth of a white person.  and by "white person", i mean that as racist as possible.

however, this week was different because a couple days ago....my sister informed me of a new development that my mother was taking on.  so this was a new image that may or may not have been welcome in my extensive dancing collection (get ready for an instructional video by Graham B in 2010...dont worry, ill have a picture in picture of a "less energy" version for senior citizens)

the story goes like this...

my sister comes home one day to let her dog out.  she walks inside to grab a delicious cheerwine to sip while she ponders the overly implicit use of human agency in regards to the church as an institution and the subconscious lack of faith in the holy spirit.  as she was in the middle of taking a satisfying swig from the glass bottle of pure joy, our mother enters the room....wearing spandex and a tank top while chugging a orange Gatorade thats probably 80% full of pino grigio.

to let everyone know....this sorta behavior is not normal so my sister was definitely caught off guard.  the only thing i can picture (unfortunate that im picturing anything at this point) is that my mom looks like a cross between Donna Reed and a brooklyn american apparel model.

after my sister collects herself she utters, "ohhh no.  what is that?"

to which my "normal and sane" mother responds with, "what? its cute! and im going to tap dancing"

my sister questions the validity of the previous statement and the next thing my mom says will either: 

a) inspire the children of the world never to let go of their dreams and to actually pursue happiness rather than just rent the movie. 

or 

b)  this.  

my mother responds with, "yes martha, im taking tap and jazz.....but this class is only to prepare me for the my hip hop dance class"

HIP HOP DANCE CLASS!!!!

YES PLEASE!!!

my sister screams as if shes won the lottery (which in many ways, has)

she told me that if there is an end of the year recital, i would have to fly in and watch mom hip hop dance.   ohhhhhhh the tables have turned....and its bullshit that mom get to participate in the better half of this.   instead of her watching our stupid piano recitals that are full of kids with one inch fingers as the parents are supposed to act "impressed" when the kids can reach the foot controls...now we get to look upon a "sick squad" of 20 year olds that has a 60 year old as the ring leader in the pop-n-lock section.  

no, i take that back...WE get the better half because it will be beyond amazing to witness this expression of true life wonder and glory.  and i might be exaggerating on the 60 year old part....my mom is only 59, she turns 60 in june.

my mother will climb her way up the hip hop ladder until she reaches the top as her new alias 60 cent....or what the cool kids say...siddy cent.  she will star in every major music video (or 15 second video blurbs on MTV)  and her unmatchable success will lead her to dance at such prestigious venues like: the white house, the superbowl, the opening of my hair salon: superbowlcuts, and lil bow wow's sweet sixteen birthday party (even though 21).  

unfortunately she will be involved in a north carolina vs rest of america epic dance battle that will result in her "winning" 100 hours of community service for correcting a police officer's lousy  posture by force.   she will claim that it was loving force (and even the officer's mother was happy about this) but this still didnt get her off the hook for "assaulting" the poor officer (who DOES have shitty posture)

she will tour the country giving hip hop dance lessons to various pre-teens all the while increasing awareness of the serious issue of childhood diabetes.  all in all, she will improve society.  no doubt.

SO! in conclusion i am proud of my mom and ESPECIALLY proud of the future mom that ive created in my brain.